


Misery Loves Company

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Walk Walk Fashion Baby [3]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom, borderlands: the pre-sequel
Genre: Drinking, M/M, fashion model au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys and Tim go out for a well-deserved drink, and to commiserate about their love lives (or lack thereof).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> Part of [Jillus'](http://jillus.tumblr.com) fashion model AU.

“Why couldn’t I have fallen for  _ you _ ,” Rhys says morosely, slowly turning his drink on the bar. “You’re  _ nice _ .”

Tim nearly chokes on his hefeweizen.

“I mean, you two are  _ twins _ ,” Rhys continues, and Tim does some quick mental math about how long they’ve been here and how many drinks Rhys has had. “You look  _ the same _ . Except when you don’t,” he adds, and Timothy is warmed despite himself. A lot of photographers fall into the trap of treating the Lawrence twins as one entity, but Rhys has never done that; where other photo shoots capitalize on Jack and Tim’s likenesses, Rhys always draws out their differences, and Tim appreciates that.

“So I don’t get it,” Rhys concludes, turning a slightly unfocused gaze on Tim. “You’re so - and he’s so -” Rhys’ face screws up as he tries to find the words to encapsulate Jack Lawrence, and Tim sympathizes. People have been trying and failing to pin down Jack for their entire lives; Tim has seen this before.

“It’s ok,” he says, trying an awkward pat on Rhys’ shoulder. “You’re not really my type.”

Rhys looks vaguely affronted. “ _ What- _ ”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tim’s mouth continues without his apparent permission. “If I was into twinks I’d be all over you.”

Rhys looks pleased and mildly confused, like he can’t figure out if that was a compliment or not. Tim takes a minute to count up how many beers  _ he’s  _ had and is somewhat surprised at the number he comes up with.

“Thanks? I think?” Rhys slumps a little lower on the bar. “I just - I don’t know what to  _ do _ . My reputation is on the line if this gets out.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it - most of his photographers end up a little in love with him. It’s supposedly a part of his charm.” Tim drains the last of his beer and turns to face Rhys more fully. “At least you didn’t sleep with him.”

Rhys’ face is undergoing a weird contortion, and Tim’s stomach drops. “You  _ didn’t. _ ”

“It just happened!” Rhys protests. “He just - and I just -” he lifts his hands and Tim grabs them and plants them back on the bar. 

“No hand gestures.  _ Please _ .”

Rhys gives Tim a longsuffering face. “I just - has he said anything about me?” He winces at the desperately hopeful tone in his own voice, and pulls back from Tim’s hands. “Never mind, forget I said anything. I got myself into this, right? I’ll get myself out.”

Tim leans back on the barstool. He knows his brother - Jack’s the love-’em-and-leave-’em type, and Tim likes Rhys. He doesn’t want to give him false hope.

But Jack  _ has _ been talking about Rhys, although Tim hadn’t thought much about it at the time. The agency has had the three of them working together a lot, and it’s been refreshing, shooting with Rhys; he has an empathy for the people on the other side of the lens that not all photographers do. (Not all photographers think of their models as “people.”)

Now that Tim thinks about it, Rhys has come up an  _ awful _ lot in conversation with Jack lately, more than can really be explained by the novelty of a new photographer. Tim thinks about the way Jack  _ doesn’t _ complain when Rhys’ shoots run over time, about the nights Jack’s been spending away, about the way Jack seems more  _ alive _ in his shoots with Rhys than he does with anyone else. Tim thinks about the story Jack had told him about Rhys arguing with Fiona over an extra day for the DeBury fall collection shoot, and the way Jack had had tears in his eyes over what was in actuality a pretty mundane interaction.

Tim thinks about the way Jack’s been smiling at his phone when he gets incoming texts over the last few weeks, and he wonders.

The question is, what is he going to tell Rhys?

He’s saved from having to think of something by Rhys leaning over to fish something out of his shoulder bag. “Enough about me,” Rhys says, voice muffled. “I found something for you.” He resurfaces with a fistfull of glossy magazines and drops them on the bar in front of Tim. “There,” he says, sounding suspiciously self-satisfied. “I think you’ll like these.”

Tim glances down, and only years of learning to control his immediate reactions saves him from blushing fiercely. These are, uh - these are  _ specialty _ magazines, the kind with the word “bear” splashed across the cover and featuring men with improbably broad shoulders.

Tim looks back up Rhys with “what the  _ fuck _ ” on his lips, but Rhys just grins at him and says, “Page 27. I marked it for you.”

Against his better judgement, Tim turns to page 27 of the top magazine, which has indeed been dog-eared, and is met with a centerfold spread of a model that looks a whole lot like Wilhelm. A  _ lot _ like Wilhelm, decked out in studs and leather and holy  _ shit _ -

“It’s definitely him,” Rhys supplies helpfully, and when Tim tears his gaze away from the magazine Rhys’ grin is the definition of shit-eating. “I had a buddy in college who was doing those shoots - he knew where to find all the back-issues. Turns out your security has a  _ past _ .”

Tim finds his gaze drawn back down to the magazine in his hands. “I hate you,” he says faintly. He has a hard enough time looking Wilhelm in the eye as it is - how is Tim supposed to face him now?

“So I should take them back?” Rhys reaches over and Tim clutches the magazine to his chest.

“ _ No,”  _ and now he  _ is _ blushing; he thought he was past this, but apparently he is not.

Rhys leans back in his seat, smugness plastered over his face. “Thought not.”

“Shut up.” Tim closes the magazine carefully and shuffles the stack over to the side, strategically out of Rhys’ reach. He signals the bartender for another round - he has a feeling he’s going to need it - and as she slides their drinks over Tim bumps Rhys’ elbow with his own. “Quite the pair, aren’t we?”

Rhys blows out a breath and he wraps his fingers around the fresh glass. “I guess.” He squints over at Tim. “How about this - you don’t tell Jack I said anything and I won’t tell Wilhelm you’re jerking it to his old fetish shoots. Deal?”

Tim makes a strangled noise. “I thought we were  _ friends. _ ”

Rhys regards him solemnly. “We are. These are the kinds of deals friends make.” His eyes cross the tiniest bit and Tim puts a hand out to steady him.

“Okay, okay. Deal.” Tim  _ clinks _ his glass against Rhys’ and takes a healthy swig of his beer. He promised not to repeat anything to Jack; that doesn’t mean he can’t gently nudge Jack in Rhys’ direction.

Tim just hopes Rhys remembers his part of the deal, because if Rhys says  _ anything _ to Wilhelm there’s a very real chance that Tim might die of embarrassment. Then he’ll never get to see Jack and Rhys sort things out, and that promises to be some world-class entertainment.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
